


Agastache Tea and Other Problems of the Modern Era

by MintUnderFoot



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Bruce Banner & Peter Parker friendship, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Coming Out, Deadpool being Deadpool, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, nonbinary Bruce Banner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28767108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintUnderFoot/pseuds/MintUnderFoot
Summary: How do you tell a piece of all-too-recent history, an Asgardian electrician, two harebrained assassins, and a recently reformed weapons manufacturer that you’re trans as fuck?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	Agastache Tea and Other Problems of the Modern Era

How do you tell a piece of all-too-recent history, an Asgardian electrician, two harebrained assassins, and a recently reformed weapons manufacturer that you’re trans as fuck?

They - not-Bruce, didn’t think it was possible. They were all good enough people but, well, it’s a hard thing to come to terms with: that the giant muscular paragon of masculinity might not, in fact, be a man.

No. They’d been repressing their anger since they first turned into the Hulk, and they could repress this budding sense of transness too. What was it the dog meme said? “Everything is fine.”

Everything was fine, and the pancakes they were making would be fine too, and it would all be fucking fine. They slammed the egg onto the side of the bowl, and watched as yet another egg was pulverized. Fuck.

It would be fine because it had to be, it wasn’t like anyone would hire a theoretical physicist who could also crush them into a pulp, and anyways, the Avengers were their family. The pancake dough seemed craggy in shape, and smelled noxiously of pumpkin spice. They began to beat it harder- “Hey Bruce, it’s great to see you,” greeted Steve, looking up from his phone.

Every time they were deadnamed, it was like a solution of lemon juice applied to a thousand papercuts, just the constant toll of living.

Not-Bruce awkwardly nodded, “Uh. You too.”

Steve smiled at his phone as not-Bruce brought him a plate of sponge-like pancakes, “Have you seen this yet?”

Not-Bruce looked down at Steve’s Starkphone to see a person in drag in front of a rainbow decked crowd with the text, “Transgender clinic tightens restrictions for nonbinary patients without dysphoria seeking hormones.”

Well. Fuck. Their hands started to shake, and that feeling came back tenfold.

“Steve, why are you smiling?” not-Bruce asked, quickly setting down the plate with a clatter and taking a couple of steps back. 

“Because that’s good, it protects folks from messing up their body chemistry.” Steve had set down his phone, and his smile had faded. He was looking directly at not-Bruce now.

“What?” Suddenly, they were a spy behind enemy lines.

“They don’t actually need hormones. They’re just scared people looking for a way out, and hormone therapy is not what they need. They need actual help.” 

“Are you kidding? Captain America is a fucking transmedicalist?” is what not-Bruce desperately wanted to say. Instead, panic swept them into its icy grasp.

Steve smiled handsomely, “These pancakes are great, thank you for making them. Almost as good as my Ma’s.”

..

After the Hulk hadn’t shown for the second month in a row, it was decided that not-Bruce should be able to defend themself. It was finally cold enough that Steve had stopped forcing them to run with him, hence why they had moved on to the indoor activity of being zip tied to a chair by a deadly assassin.

With a dry smile, they looked up at Natasha. “I’m having a great time.”

Natasha smirked wickedly. “Everyone loves a little bondage.”

In that moment, they felt a sense of camaraderie with her, and that was all it took.

“I don’t think I want to go by B-” they paused, reevaluating, “I don’t want to go by ‘the Hulk’ anymore. I prefer Briar.”

Natasha gave them an assessing glance, raising one perfectly plucked eyebrow. They knew she hadn’t missed their misstep.

“Look. I accept you, but if you come out, you’re putting yourself in danger.” She moved to lean against the wall, next to the open door. 

“People will still call you the Hulk. Can you really take the press filling their headlines with ‘Briar, formerly Hulk, renames himself”? If you don’t make it public, you still have the freedom of not knowing their reaction.” They moved in their chair, wrists chafing against the zip ties.

“We can call you Briar on the team, but the press will tear you apart.” 

With Captain America, firey courage had left not-Bruce, but they now spoke with quietly controlled rage, “You think I don’t know that? I like to pretend otherwise, like the world isn’t awful, but of course I know. It’s present in every move I make. It’s worth it to me to feel like myself.”

“Briar, you can’t take something like that back. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“Please just get the scissors, Natasha,” not-Bruce said, leaning back into the chair, wrists red from the zip ties.

..

Not-Bruce was slumped in the maze that was the R&D department when Peter found them. They had been up for roughly 31 hours working on a programming project and looked like they had fallen off the science train.

Peter handed them a large thermos of tea, before sitting across from them. “What was it this time?”

“You know Tony’s been trying to build a quantum computer, yeah?”

“Yep, not entirely sure what that means, but I am aware.”

“Well, I’m trying to build the UI, the user interface, for it. We would have given the job to someone who actually knows how to build a UI that isn’t godawful, but that would mean having to explain quantum physics to some hapless CS psych double major. Pepper said we were only allowed to break one brain per month.”

“As the boyfriend of a CS major, thank you.” 

They laughed dryly, “You should. How’s the boy?”

Peter quirked an eyebrow at them. “‘The boy’ has a name, you realize? You can call him Ned. Anyways, Ned is alright, still working on finals. By the way, how’s the naming going?”

“The naming is.. going. I’m still thinking about Briar, but it just feels too long. Isn’t the unspoken rule for enby names three letters?” 

“You’re not wrong. I still like it though. It suits you.” 

Not-Bruce took a sip of the tea, and gagged. “What the fu- dge did you give me, Pete? What is this, licorice?”

“It’s from the cafe down the street, they’re offering a gay blend currently for Pride where 50% of the proceeds go to supporting a trans-friendly homeless shelter. Strawberry leaves, bergamot, lemon, blueberry leaves, and agastache. I wanted to support local gays.”

“I’m all for supporting the gays, but please choose gays with tastebuds next time, this is awful. Also, young man, don’t think I didn’t hear about your binder incident last month. Just because your ribs can reshape themselves after you wear your binder for 12 hours does not mean they should have to.” not-Bruce had started the sentence playful, but ended with a stern tone.

Peter sat down and leaned against the wall opposite not-Bruce. He sighed, and his cheeks turned crimson. “I know. It’s just difficult, especially with my body not reacting well to being on T and the latest round of antidepressants at the same time. Especially because my spider-sense doesn’t seem to realize that putting T in my body is not a cause for alarm but celebration. The woes of super healing.” 

Not-Bruce smiled at him sympathetically. “Even ignoring that it causes you pain and makes it harder to breathe, there really isn’t enough research on superheroes’ healing and whether doing something like that repeatedly will cause long term damage. There’s even less on trans superheroes. You need to be careful.”

Peter grimaced. “Fine, I’ll try. Let’s talk about you. How’s the coming out to the team thing going, have you figured out your first victim?”

Not-Bruce mirrored Peter’s grimace, “I’m still figuring it out. They’re my family, and I can’t mess that up for myself, you know? I can’t.”

They shifted awkwardly, trying to find a more comfortable position. 

“I think Tony might be my first though. His laissez-faire ‘I’ll respect anything but don’t expect me to fight for your identity’ attitude is annoying as - well, actually I’m not going to say that word. That being said, he will at least use my pronouns, so not completely terrible.“

Not-Bruce took another sip of the tea mechanically. Oddly, it was better the second time around. 

“His attitude also isn’t as actively harmful as Captain ‘I’m gay so my opinion on queer issues is God to straight people’ America. And, I think Natasha knows and doesn’t want me to come out publicly.”

Not-Bruce raised the thermos to their lips. The licorice flavour was back in full force. 

“Yeah,” Peter sighed, “Did you see the interview he did last Tuesday? Damnit Cap. Tony’s a good first choice though. I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.”

“Maybe.” not-Bruce took another sip of the godawful tea.

..

A few days later, not-Bruce had committed themself. They took the elevator down to the workshop, hesitating outside of the door when they heard the heavy synth music, before walking in. Jarvis automatically toned the music down.

The workshop was large, with three rolling tables, various implements of destruction scattered over each. Tony was deburring a large sheet of metal and had neglected to put on safety glasses yet again. 

“Still working on the weight reduction project?” not-Bruce asked, walking over to examine the metal.

“Yeah. Based on the projections you gave me last week Brucie-Bear, I don’t need to take off much more metal to increase my maximum speed by 15%.”

“Glad I was able to help.” Not-Bruce shifted their weight from one foot to the other.

“You here to work on anything in specific, or just to see my charming face?” Tony grinned cheekily, taking a particularly vicious swipe at the metal to the beat drop.

“Actually,” they reasserted their control over their movements and leaned against a table. In retribution for their crimes against it, it jerked backward. Fuck, the wheels were unlocked. “Sorry.” They pulled it back into place. 

“What?” Tony glanced up, “What did I miss? Were you apologizing to my table?”

“Anyways. I have a thing I need to talk to you about.” They smiled awkwardly.

Tony nodded, in a manner not-Bruce thought was meant to be encouraging, until they realized it was along to the beat of the song.

Not-Bruce took a deep breath and began to speak, “I want you to use they them pronouns for me. I don’t fuck with any particular gender or even with not having a gender, but I’m not a cisgender person. Pete knows, but nobody else. If you could avoid gendering me at all in front of the rest of the Avengers, I would appreciate it.” 

Tony stopped deburring and stared at them like they were the newest toy in his toolbox. “Cool. So how does that work with the Hulk, anyway? It seems strange that the two versions that make up you could be different genders, but I’ve never thought of the Hulk as being nonbinary. If you got the surgery, how would that affect the Hulk? And, how long have you known?”

“Give me a minute.” Not-Bruce backed away to the kitchenette in the corner of the room and got themself a mug of water. “Sorry, I am not comfortable answering those questions, and it really was not your place to ask them. Just use my pronouns when you’re with Peter and I.”

Tony threw his hands up. “Fine, fine, just trying to see what’s up. I’ll use your pronouns. How do you want Jarvis to address you?”

“Mx. Banner.”

..

It was rewarding to have their gender be externally validated, right up until a journalist tried to schedule a meeting with them using their shiny new Jarvis auto-scheduler. She was corrected in that she wasn’t talking about being scheduled with Mr. Banner, but instead with Mx. Banner, who uses they them pronouns, thank you kindly, at which point it became devastating. 

She at least had the courtesy to let them know that the story would be coming out 24 hours before she published it. 

They had to get out, to be away from New York where everyone knew their face, at least for a couple of days. They knew they were just postponing their issues and that it wouldn’t help, but they needed to run from the not-breathing unending panic. 

Pulling into a rest stop halfway to Stratton, Maine, they finally breathed. The rented Kia sputtered to a stop, and they opened the door, inhaling the peacefulness of the place. Orange and gold leaves covered the pavement, and the air had just turned crisp.

In front of the main building, there were two vending machines, one offering nothing but Orange Crush, and the other a poisonously seductive offer of coffee. There was a person standing in front of the latter. They appeared to be in cosplay of some superhero, but it was hard to tell from behind. Maybe Spiderman?

Not-Bruce approached and attempted to convince the vending machine to take their crumpled bills. Beside them, the coffee machine sputtered and groaned, before letting out a rather alarming amount of steam. The cosplayer turned towards them, macchiato in hand, and the pure bizarreness of the situation short-circuited their brain.

“Deadpool?”

“Hey darlin’.” Deadpool winked at them.

“Why the actual fuck are you here?” 

Deadpool grinned, “Pete was worried boutcha, and I was running an errand down here. B T dubs, the news is out, and I do know about your whole gender situation, and Pete updated me on your name. Now Briar,” he pulled out a blood-stained baggie of glitter and threw some of it into the air with a flourish, and pirouetted effortlessly, “I’m your ‘oh god oh fuck I’ve been outed en masse’ fairy, come to help.”

“I don’t want to deal with this. Could you just.. not?”

“Come on, sit with me.” Deadpool linked his arm through theirs and gently pulled them along to sit on a bench outside, under a tree. 

“I’m here to tell you from one queer person to another, you do not have to work with the Avengers. Maybe they’ll get better, but you do not have to be there while they’re still dicks.”

Seeing that they needed a moment to think, Deadpool handed them his coffee, “Drink.”

They did, it was positively foul. They handed it back, and not-Bruce looked Deadpool in the eyes and spoke, “They’re my family.”

“They’re your family, Briar, but that doesn’t mean you gotta hug ‘em tight while they slice you open. They love you and have killed for you, but that doesn’t mean they can’t hurt you.” 

“If I leave, who will force them to get better?” 

“I’m not saying straight up leave. I’m saying let them figure their shit out before you expose yourself to them again. You realize there’s a reason that they’re largely composed of white cis men, and the teams they work with are largely white cis men?”

Not-Bruce raised their eyebrows, and Deadpool continued, “They’ve got a history of not treating folks well. What I’m saying is that you can use your privilege and the fact that the media want to talk to you, especially now, to make ‘em change.”

Wade pulled his mask up, slurped some coffee loudly, and handed the cup back.

They felt like Deadpool saw them. Not what they projected as being them, the vague facsimile of a person that was Bruce or the separate beast that was the Hulk, he saw Briar, whole. 

“I need some time to think. I mean, I was coerced into joining the Avengers originally, and I think the rest of them just assumed I would be fine staying even when SHIELD wasn’t holding me at gunpoint, waiting for me to crack. It was easy to stay on the path, and not make any decisions.”

“I can imagine.” 

They stayed in the stillness of that, let it seep into them.

Finally, they spoke, “I can’t go back.”

Deadpool nodded, “Okay.”

Briar looked up into the canopy of trees above them, and smiled. It was a beautiful day.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a bit of a wild ride, y'all, but thank you for reading, and thank you to my lovely beta fantasyportal, who's 69 time kudosed fic was messed up by myself.  
> -Mint


End file.
